Echoes
by Krys Yuy
Summary: Post-Season 8. AU. Echoes of a childhood memory begin to haunt Clark – a memory he has never experienced before. Can he trust these pieces of the past? Or is this a last ditch attempt to hold on to the one person he is still unable to let go? Clois.


**Echoes**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Prompt: Season 8, PG-13, Talon: Booth  
Summary: Post-Season 8. AU. Echoes of a childhood memory begin to haunt Clark – a memory he has never experienced before. Can he trust these pieces of the past? Or is this a last ditch attempt to hold on to the one person he is still unable to let go?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois  
Warning: None.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: Written for Divine Intervention's Second Summer Fanfic Stravaganza. Dedicated to Snap as this would have never come about without her prompt! Posted just under the wire (I'm on PST – SoCal). I completely disregard all Season 9 spoilers we've gotten so far, hence the 'Alternate Universe' tagline. This is more character than action, so… And I'm sorry that it's not so summery! I'm a little iffy about the whole thing. This might be unnecessarily long, but I still really hope you enjoy!

* * *

_Clark Kent is dead._

Clark stared at himself in the mirror, his words to Chloe a month before echoing in his head. After he left the Watchtower that day, he had taken the steps necessary to cut all ties with his human life. Placed his resignation letter on Tess's desk, threw away his cell phone, packed and covered everything in the house, arranged for Ben Hubbard to take care of the farm. He almost sold the farm altogether, but the memory of his parents had stayed his hand. His father would have been disappointed, and though his mother was in Washington, she would not have understood his choice. She was the only one he would keep up the pretense of Clark Kent for, and even then, it would merely be through the occasional letter and phone call.

When he wasn't staying overnight at the Fortress, his family's house was his living quarters. He slept on the couch and only ventured to the second floor to use the bathroom. Aside from sleeping, eating and cleaning up, he was rarely at the house. Rarely in Smallville.

He dedicated himself to being the hero the world needed. In between his daily and nightly patrols, he was attempting to revive the Fortress. If he wanted to truly embrace his Kryptonian side, he would need his biological father's help.

There was nothing tying him to his small hometown anymore. Only one person kept trying to contact him and he ignored her calls. No one from the Justice League bothered and he preferred it that way. He had no need for companionship, for friends. He had believed in them, and they let him down.

_No more._

But there remained one thing he was still unable to let go.

Clark shut his eyes and turned away from the hollow reflection staring back at him. A month had passed since the day he decided to shed his humanity. Four weeks. Roughly thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours. For the most part, he was able to ignore the one thing that continued to haunt him. But there were still times when it would emerge and catch him off guard.

No matter how many times he reminded himself, there was a part of him unwilling to believe it.

_Lois is gone._

The banister cracked underneath his touch as he paused on his way down the stairs leading into the kitchen. He viciously squashed the surge of outrage and forced himself to think rationally. Realistically. Lois had been missing ever since the night of Doomsday's attack. He had searched everywhere for her, to no avail. Many had been injured and killed during the alien monster's rampage.

When he had been unable to find any trace of her, Clark assumed she had fallen prey to Doomsday. Lois was yet another victim of his mistakes. Initially, he had fought against such a horrifying thought, but the longer he looked for her with no results, the more his hope waned. The absence of her heartbeat should have been the final nail in the coffin.

That didn't stop him from taking an extra moment during patrols to stop and listen for that elusive sound that was fast becoming a mere memory. Tracking leads, searching from Jane Doe to Jane Doe in each hospital in Metropolis… none of them led back to the one person who trusted him, the RBB, to do what was right.

With each passing day, he felt more and more of his humanity slip away.

_Lois is gone._

Clark no longer bothered to question the cold emptiness of his face as he passed another mirror in the downstairs foyer. He had made his decision.

_And Clark Kent is dead._

–

Lois stepped off the Greyhound bus and looked around. It was a bright, sunny day in the quiet town, but the coming of summer was the farthest thing from her mind. _Of course Smallville would look __**exactly**__ the same,_ she thought. She steeled herself against the bout of hysteria that threatened to consume her again.

"Get a grip, Lane," she muttered to herself.

A few other passengers either exiting the bus or standing near her gave her strange looks. She glared back, running a hand through her disheveled hair. Inadvertently putting on a ring that time traveled was grounds for a freak-out. She thought she was handling herself pretty well considering.

"What?" she barked. "Never seen a girl talk to herself?" They turned their heads quickly and a couple even retreated in the opposite direction. "It's healthy for you!" she yelled at their retreating backs.

Other people were starting to stare and Lois jammed her hands in her pockets. She walked away, but not without scowling at them, too. She forgot her annoyance swiftly, however, when she took in her surroundings again. The Antique Shop, Melville's Nursery, Smallville Savings and Loan, Fordman's Department Store, and a bunch of other establishments on Main Street looked exactly as they did in 2009. Perhaps a different paint job here and there and altered lettering for the signs, but those changes were miniscule. It was all relatively the same, but appearances were deceiving.

Lois knew, though it shouldn't be possible, that she was looking at the 1993 version of Smallville.

She reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and took out the Daily Planet newspaper she had grabbed the night before. The printed date in the right hand corner hadn't changed.

_May 14, 1993._

Lois stopped at the newspaper vending box in front of Nell's Bouquet, a flower shop she recognized as closed down in her time. But, if the customers bustling in and out were any indication, business was currently going strong. Lois shook her head and deposited some coins in the machine before reaching in and taking out a copy of the Smallville Ledger. The date was a day ahead from her Planet one and the year unfortunately remained the same.

_1993._

Lois didn't know why she was having another staring contest with a newspaper when she had already attempted and failed the previous night. The numbers weren't going to magically change. She had time traveled. No biggie.

She crushed the Ledger in her hands. _YES, biggie!_ she screamed in her head. She tossed the crumpled paper into a nearby trashcan and leaned against the newspaper vending machine.

"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore," she said, watching all the people milling about. "Well, we are, just not _Kansas_ Kansas. My Kansas." She crossed her arms. "And here I am, talking to myself again." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Great."

She didn't recognize anyone to her dismay, as people passed her on their way up and down the street. It looked like she would have to walk to the Kent Farm. _Or,_ she supposed, observing the various townsfolk, _I can hitch a ride._

She needed to visit the people she considered surrogate parents. Both of who were years younger, and, in Mr. Kent's case, alive again. Lois swallowed the emotion that swelled in her throat. If she could only switch places with Clark… while she didn't want him to be stranded in time, she knew how much it would mean to him to see his father again. She couldn't deny that the fact that she was two years too late to see her mother stung. If any positive could be spun out of her situation, it would have been that.

But the possibility of seeing Mr. Kent again, alive and well, was as much of a miracle as seeing her mother would have been. She didn't know what she would say when she saw the Kents. All she knew was that they were the only ones she could turn to. She would somehow have to convince them.

Lois brought both hands to her forehead and smoothed back her hair. "I need coffee," she muttered. She didn't want to waste what precious cash she had in her wallet, but coffee was essential if she was about to embark on a journey to get back home. She smiled when she saw people heading into the Talon next door. "Perfect." Looked like the coffee shop was still in business, though she spotted the Beanery across the street.

Something tickled at the back of her mind, as if she was forgetting an important detail, but she shrugged it off. Coffee was at the forefront of her consciousness. She walked past the posters on the Talon's outside walls before she froze. She stared at the ticket box window placed in front of the Talon entrance. On either side of the box office were double doors leading inside the building. That was most definitely not a part of the Talon in 2009. Who needed tickets to get coffee, anyway?

Lois backpedaled until she was standing in front of the posters again. Advertisements for the movies Dave and Much Ado About Nothing were tacked up on the walls. The pieces fell into place and she smacked her forehead. The Talon had been converted to a coffee shop in 2002, but before that, it was a movie theater.

_Well, that sucks._ Lois frowned at the posters. Now where was she supposed to get her much needed dose of the coffee bean? She glanced at the Beanery, but remembered what Chloe said about health code violations. Her frown deepened into a scowl. _I slept in the Planet copy room in these clothes, endured a cramped bus ride to Smallville and now I can't even get a decent cup of coffee. Where's the justice in that?_

Lois kicked at the ground as she looked down one end of Main Street. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew past her, stirring her hair. She brought a hand to her head to keep her brown locks from whipping into her face as she turned around. The street had gone quiet with the townsfolk either indoors or farther away in the plaza.

When she turned back around, Lois almost jumped at the sight of the small child in front of her. His head was down and he sniffled audibly.

"Hey, you all right, kid?"

Aside from his adorable mop of black hair, the first thing Lois noticed as he slowly lifted his head was the deep blue of his eyes.

–

For some unfathomable reason, Clark stopped in the alleyway behind the Talon instead of continuing to his destination in Metropolis. The alley was deserted. He shook his head, fully prepared to speed off again, but his feet wouldn't cooperate. Something held him back.

Clark frowned. If he was going to investigate at normal speed, he needed to be out of his new uniform. He did a quick clothing change and switched out of his black ensemble for a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt. It would have to do.

What he really wanted was to start patrol, but there was an itching at the back of his mind leading him through the back door of the Talon. He stopped by the stairs and looked around.

The Talon was unusually tranquil for a Sunday afternoon. A few patrons were scattered here and there, and there were only a couple of employees – one manning the cash register and the other cleaning up tables. Everything seemed normal.

His gaze passed over the glass door entrance and moved along the wall before he did a double take. The sidewalk just outside the Talon was empty. He frowned again. He could have sworn…

He shook his head. It was his imagination. He turned around, fully intending to leave –

A whisper of a memory crossed his mind.

A beautiful woman with long brown hair and a bemused smile.

"_Hey, you all right, kid?"_

–

The little boy, who looked to be about six or seven, met her eyes before his gaze skittered and he ducked his head again. Lois, however, saw the wet trails on his cheeks. There was an unexpected tug on her heart and she squatted down in front of him so she was about eye-level.

"Are you lost?" she asked gently. He remained perfectly still aside from the occasional rub at his face. "Where are your parents?"

Lois didn't think it was possible, but he managed to freeze up even more. Carefully, she placed a hand on his head and patted his hair. "It's okay, it's okay," she said soothingly as if she were talking to a small skittish animal. "Let's go to the police station then, all right?"

His eyes shot up at that and he shook his head furiously.

"Okay, okay!" Lois placed her hands on his cheeks to stop his shaking. "No authorities. I can understand that." She looked him in the eye. "Though I'm kinda doubting you're running from the law." She released his face and looked him over. He wore a pale yellow T-shirt, jeans and Velcro sneakers. "You certainly don't look like any criminal I've ever seen."

In fact, there was something familiar about him. However, she couldn't really dwell on it, not when he was staring at her. It wasn't in an unnerving way though. It was more… innocently curious. She wondered if it was because she was the only one talking. She raised an eyebrow and stared back. There was a certain sweetness about him; the kind Lois figured got him anything he wanted if used right.

Then again, looking into his baby blues, he didn't seem like the kind of kid who was aware of how endearing he was.

He had stopped sniffling, but a few stray tears fell from his eyelashes. Another tug in her chest. Gently, she reached over and brushed the tears from his cheeks. "If you're in trouble, you can tell me," she said quietly. "I'll help you, and I'll make sure you're safe."

He wavered, but didn't break.

He was a tough one, she would give him that. Lois didn't know why, but she wanted him to trust her. Some part of her protested that she was wasting her time – she needed to find a way back home! But the pull she felt to the young child in front of her was as real as it was confusing.

That, or she was simply a sucker for blue eyes.

Snorting, she rolled her eyes and got a glimpse of the Talon marquee sign. _Hmm…_ She looked back at the small boy, who now had his arms neatly at his sides with his gaze pointed downward. Before she could attempt to talk to him again, he looked up and saw something that spooked him because the next thing she knew, he had darted into the Talon.

The boy was short, but not too short to go unnoticed by the employee manning the ticket booth. "Hey!" he yelled, standing up.

Lois straightened quickly and ran up to knock on the box office window. "He's with me," she said, reaching for the cash in her pocket. "How much for one kid and one adult?"

–

_That voice…_

Clark clutched his head as murmurs from another time floated in and out of his mind. A long time ago, there had been a woman – a pretty woman with kind eyes. The exact details of her face were nebulous, lost through the passing of the years.

But something wasn't quite right.

This memory – if that was what it was – was only emerging now. Never before this moment could he recall this encounter he apparently had as a child. It seemed both new and old, like he had already watched it over and over, but was experiencing it again as if for the first time.

_It __**is**__ the first time._

"Sir, are you all right?"

Clark jerked back as someone touched his shoulder and whirled around to find a startled waitress. A month ago, he would have apologized. Now, he only muttered, "I'm fine."

She nodded nervously, but her professional attitude kicked in as she continued, "Would you like something to drink? I can bring it to your table."

"Hot chocolate," he answered before he could stop himself.

The waitress nodded again, but she was quick to scamper away. Clark ignored her and headed to a vinyl booth secluded on the far left of the Talon's counter. It was towards the back and blocked from the entrance by one of the many columns that was part of the Egyptian motif. The few other patrons sat nearer to the front and Clark was glad for the illusion of solitude as he slid into the side of the booth that faced away from the doors. He tried to figure out why on earth he ordered hot chocolate. Or, more importantly, why was he receiving glimpses of a memory he never knew he had?

"_I'll help you, and I'll make sure you're safe."_

Again, that voice resonated in his ears and in his mind's eye, he saw that woman lightly brushing away his… tears? She was friendly, but he still recalled being scared. Clark tried to concentrate but the circumstances of his fear eluded him. Through his younger self's perspective, an image of his parents' red truck appeared in the distance and he fled into the very Talon he was currently sitting in.

Pieces of the memory drifted through his head, but when he attempted to get a clearer picture, it only got more distorted. He grit his teeth and looked down at the table. What was he doing?

_Chasing ghosts._

Perhaps he had finally crossed the line into insanity.

"_Some flight reflex you got there."_

Clark's head snapped up. The voice sounded clearer, not as muffled as before. So clear, in fact, that he could not mistake the owner of that voice for anyone else.

_Lois._

–

Lois pushed through the double glass doors, stuffing the movie ticket stubs in the back pocket of her jeans. She took in the transformation of the Talon and saw what it used to be – what it was now. She felt like she had stepped even further back in time. The Talon looked every inch the classic movie house from way back when.

While the Talon in her time utilized all its space with tables and booths for customers, here the lobby was spacious with plush couches and upholstered chairs positioned along the fringes of the room. Soft red carpet covered the floor and an elegant chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. The counter where people would buy pastries and coffee currently served as the concession stand. Lois saw an assortment of candies and drinks as well as popcorn.

Her gaze swept over the room, noting every detail. There were no people aside from the one worker at the counter, and Lois figured everyone was watching the movie already playing behind the curtains to the theater. As such, it was not difficult to find the little boy hidden in a niche to the left of the concession stand. A column had temporarily blocked him, but he was easy to spot once she walked farther into the lobby.

He sat facing away from the doors, huddled with his knees up on one end of a curving red couch. The lush furniture made a kind of 'u', so when she sat down on the other end, she was directly across from him. She looked around briefly and realized they were in a spot that would be occupied by a number of booths in the future. In fact, they were sitting where her favorite booth would be, she realized.

That faintly amused her, but she smoothed her expression into one of feigned nonchalance as she turned her attention solely on the quiet child before her. For one so subdued, Lois couldn't imagine him getting into any kind of mischief. He seemed more jumpy than anything else. She just had to figure out what about.

"Some flight reflex you got there," she finally said.

He jerked a bit at the sound of her voice, but said nothing.

She eyed him thoughtfully. "Think you can tell me your name, kiddo?" she asked. He remained stubbornly silent, burying his head in his knees. "Didn't think so. Stranger danger and all that, right?"

No response. Again.

She sighed. "Right."

Lois thought of what relaxed her as a child. She slapped her knee and attempted cheer. "How about some hot chocolate, then?" she offered, looking at the counter. "Aaannnddd… I forgot we're in a movie theater, not a coffee shop. Though I think I did see coffee. But movie coffee is awful, isn't it? I'm definitely on caffeine withdrawal. Maybe I should chance a go at the Beanery. What do you think?"

Lois glanced back at the boy to discover he had stopped moping. He stared at her, wide-eyed and overwhelmed.

"Don't like talkative women, squirt?" she inquired. She couldn't stop herself from smirking, just a little bit. "Better get used to it – I'm no exception, though I guess I am ballsier than most." She went still and peeked at his face. She hoped she was imagining the further widening of his eyes.

"Uh, don't repeat that."

–

Clark's lips twitched.

He frowned a second later. He had felt the urge to laugh. That hadn't happened in a long while.

It was all playing out in front of him, like – well, like a movie. A fuzzy movie with a lot of static, but viewable nonetheless. The random pieces of the memory were beginning to converge into a solid mass, one that was ever so delicately unfolding in a linear fashion.

And the more it played, the clearer the woman was becoming. Her features were still blurry, but the rest of her was gradually coming into focus.

He heard her voice, and if he wasn't dreaming up things, he would be seeing her next. The foggy image in his head could easily be the person he wanted it to be.

Every rational part of him screamed that he was crazy, that this couldn't be happening, that he should leave and do what he set out to do every day and every night.

Clark refused to leave the booth despite his inner skepticism. If there was any chance…

_If there was any chance…_

–

The young boy tilted his head to the side, and she strongly resisted the urge to 'aww'. She was about to go off on another tangent so she could fill the silence when he mumbled something.

She scooted forward on the couch so much that she was almost hanging off it. "What?"

"Wh…" he whispered. "Umm, what's your name?"

Of course his voice would match his cute countenance. It was obvious even if he was speaking quietly. He was going to grow up and break hearts. She could already tell.

_No kid should be this cute._

She opened her mouth to answer his question, hoping it would gain his trust, but she shut it as a thought occurred to her. _Should_ she tell him her name? Was there some kind of time travel rulebook on these things?

"Hmm… it's sort of a secret," she said, wanting to be honest. _I think._

"Oh." He shrugged. "Okay."

She tilted her own head, mirroring his earlier actions as she regarded him. "Okay?" she parroted incredulously. "That's it? You don't want to know?"

He unfurled his knees and lowered his legs. "You're supposed to keep –" He put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. "– about secrets. Not polite to try an' find 'em out."

The kid had sense, but she knew there were secrets, and then there were _secrets_. "Are you saying being nosy's a bad thing?"

He nodded without hesitation.

She waved her hand in the air, dismissing the notion. "Yeah. Sure. Depending on your perspective," she said. She looked at him blinking back at her guilelessly.

Damn. He really was adorable.

"How about this? You can call me Lo."

–

Clark's hand curled into a fist on the tabletop.

Her image cleared and there was no mistaking who she was. Her smile was open and gentle with that teasing hint that was almost always there. The longing that struck him in that moment was so powerful that he bit back a gasp.

He hadn't felt anything like this, hadn't _allowed_ himself to, in such a long time.

Had he really missed her so much that he was now conjuring her up however he could? _When_ever he could? Was his mind that twisted?

He mouthed the next words of his younger self, not knowing how he knew. He just did.

"_Nice to meet you, Miss Lo."_

–

"Nice to meet you, Miss Lo."

Lois sucked in a breath, his words triggering a memory.

"_And if there's anyone who can find it, it's you… Miss Lane."_

Homesickness crept up on her, stronger than ever. She wanted to hear him. She needed to believe. Lois bit her lip and looked down. She wondered if he was looking for her. If anyone was.

She gave herself a good mental shake. This was no time to be depressed, and she was the only one who could get herself out of the mess she landed in. No one was coming to her rescue.

Lois reached out and shook the boy's hand. He had very good manners for his age. Though he had asked for her name, but didn't offer his. Ah well. She didn't want him to clam up again.

Lois leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped together in the middle. "Here's the deal, Tiny Tim. If you won't let me help you with your problem," she said, "maybe you can help me with mine."

He placed his hands on the couch and looked at her. He seemed sort of bashful, as if he couldn't believe she wanted his help.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "See… I'm a little lost," she confessed. "I don't know how to get home."

'Tim' frowned. "That's scary, Miss Lo."

Lois nodded, pushing back the helplessness that threatened to take her under. "Yeah… it is."

–

Clark flinched when a mug of hot chocolate was pushed in front of him, breaking his vision.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" the waitress from earlier said. "I'm sorry. I didn't think- I'm sorry." She hastily dropped the bill in front of him, and was about to scurry away when he grabbed her wrist.

Clark saw her swallow her shriek out of the corner of his eye. With his free hand, he placed a ten-dollar bill in her grasp. "Keep the change," he said blankly.

"T-thank you."

He spied her nametag. "And Tiffany?"

She gulped. "Yes, sir?"

"This booth is off-limits," he stated plainly, looking her in the eyes to show he was serious. "At least until I'm gone. I don't need any service and no one needs to look here, either. Understood?"

Tiffany nodded briskly, and Clark knew she just wanted to get away from him. He vaguely wondered if she would call the manager on him. He didn't care as long as it happened after he figured out what was going on.

Clark released her, and she hurried away even faster than last time. He watched her go before he focused on the booth again. There was something about this spot where he was sitting. When he first entered the Talon, he had gotten glimpses, seeing and hearing things in fragments. It was only when he sat at the booth that things started to come together.

His right hand clutched the warm mug in front of him as he closed his eyes. The memory bloomed to life, more vivid than ever, and picked up where he left off.

–

"But you're a grown-up. Grown-ups don't get scared." The little boy furrowed his brow in a way that was eerily familiar.

_There's no way._ Lois shook her head.

"Here's something most kids don't know – we grown-ups get scared, too," she said, cupping her mouth on one side as if she were divulging a huge secret.

He seemed to take that in very seriously. His brow creased even more and he looked to be in deep thought. The picture did nothing for Lois's attempts not to be taken in by him. He stayed quiet for several minutes, glancing at her shyly every so often.

"… I ran," he finally mumbled.

"What?"

He swung his legs slowly and ducked his head. "I ran away."

"From home?" Lois asked. She barely knew the kid, but that seemed uncharacteristic.

"I didn't mean to!" He looked stricken and Lois almost regretted finding out.

"You want to go back home then?" she asked. He nodded. "Then why don't you?"

"Mommy and Daddy…" He was hesitant. "… they're gonna be mad at me."

Lois thought that was highly unlikely. "Y'know, kid, I bet they won't be," she said. "In fact, I'm sure they're really worried about you."

She didn't know what she could have possibly said, but it seemed to open the floodgates with him. He started babbling. "I ran all the way to the woods one time, and they told me to not run anymore. But I forgot because I really, really like to play tag with Pete. I was playing with him today and I ran and I couldn't stop. Then I was in front of Miss Nell's shop and you were there."

"Huh." She stared at him. The boy could talk. "Didn't think you had it in you." And what was this about running and not stopping? Adrenaline of some kind?

"Mommy and Daddy are gonna be mad," he repeated, looking as worried as he did when she first found him standing in front of her. "And dia- disa-" His nose scrunched up as he tried to remember the word he was looking for, and she stifled her laugh.

"Disappointed?"

He nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh, that one," he said. He picked at his jeans. "I don't like it when that happens. Their smiles go upside down and it makes me feel bad."

"You seem like a pretty brave kid to me," Lois commented, which prompted an unsure smile from him.

"Mommy and Daddy say that, too," he said. "Being brave is… not being scared, right?"

Lois smiled. "Yeah."

He looked down at his hands. "I want to be brave."

"If you want to be brave, then you can't run away from your problems," she said. She scooted back on the cushion a little. "You have to face them head on."

He did his whole intense thinking look – as intense as a child could be – placing his chin on his hands as he leaned with his elbows on his knees. He swung his legs back and forth several times, looking like he was trying to solve a mental puzzle.

Still hunched over, he peeked up at her. "I have to tell Mommy and Daddy what I did," he concluded, though there was still the hint of a question in his inflection.

"That's a good idea," Lois said agreeably.

This was definitely progress. The kid had potential, and Lois was glad to have helped him. The whole mess would be cleaned up in no time. She would personally deliver him to his parents, whoever they were, and the little family would go off and live happily ever after while she tried to convince the Kents she wasn't crazy.

_Buzzkill much?_ Any happy feelings she had for filling her good deed quotient of the day was washed away by the reminder of her predicament. No more time to waste.

"Come on, kid," Lois said, giving his knee a pat or two. "Let's take you home."

She stood up but he reached out to tug on her jacket sleeve. "Could I stay with you some more?" he asked. "Please?"

"Why –?"

"You're really nice." He smiled, wholesome and warmhearted.

"Whoa there, mini charmer," she said, holding out her hands. "Tone down the surplus of cute. I can only take so much."

He tipped his head to the side inquisitively.

She wouldn't be seeing this little guy ever again. A few minutes more couldn't hurt. It was a good thing she didn't know his name – otherwise, she might be tempted to look him up in the future. "We can stay here a little longer, but I'm going to have to take you home soon," she said.

He beamed.

She sat down again and poked his forehead. "What'd I just say about the cute?"

–

Lois was a natural with kids. Was this how he subconsciously pictured her with them?

Clark opened his eyes and was somehow not surprised to see an image of Lois sitting across from him in the booth. She was a bit faded and her edges were hazy, but she was there. She gestured and smiled, but she looked below his head.

He was seeing her.

He no longer questioned it.

Clark reached out to her and his hand hovered above her forearm. His fingers curled back.

–

The boy rubbed his forehead and didn't even look annoyed. Instead, he asked, "Can we play a game?"

Lois looked around and remembered the tickets in her back packet. "How about a movie instead?"

He perked up. "A cartoon?"

"How about a dramedy with look-alikes and politics?" she asked. He blinked at her blankly. "Yeah… maybe a game is best. Do you want to go outside? Enjoy that summer sun?"

"Let's thumb wrestle!"

Thumb wrestling? That took her back. She used to play it with Lucy before her sister got bored. Probably because she always lost. Lois grinned at the memory and said, "Sure, kid, why not?"

He grinned. "Okay!" He laid his palms flat between them and mimed the top of a box. "This is a table."

Lois noted with amusement that the imaginary table was short for her, but the perfect size for him.

He seemed to notice the same thing because he raised his hands and re-did the table. "Oops." He looked at her sheepishly. "I don't play with grown-ups a lot."

Add thoughtful to his list of attributes. His parents had done their job well. She saw the table he pantomimed and imagined vinyl booths instead of couches, and for a second, she was back in the Talon she knew.

"Ready, Miss Lo?"

Lois blinked and he was holding his palm out vertically. His hand was raised higher to compensate for the invisible table.

–

Clark watched Lois lift her hand and reach across the table. He copied the movements of his memory. He mirrored her and their palms were centimeters apart.

A moment of indecision clouded his mind before he took a deep breath and met her palm for palm. If he went only by vision, he knew their skin was pressed together.

He felt nothing.

–

Lois smiled and placed her palm against his. They slid their hands back so they could then grasp each other's fingers tightly. He had a firm grip that surprised her.

He made his thumb bow, but when she didn't follow suit, he said, "You have to bow, too! It's in the rules."

"Oh. Right." She bowed her thumb as well, but instead of finding it silly, she found it all rather funny.

He started to shake their hands up and down in accordance with his chant. Lois joined in towards the end when it came back to her. "One, two, three, four – I declare a thumb war!" She stopped chanting, but he continued, "Five, six, seven, eight – Try to keep your thumb straight!"

Quickly, they began to thumb wrestle and tried to catch each other's thumb. Their digits battled it out, brushing and pushing against one another. He started to wriggle on his seat, using his weight against her, and she laughed as she tried to keep their combined hands steady. She recalled how she always fooled Lucy.

Lois laid her thumb down, and right as he was about to pin her, she went up and over his thumb, capturing it swiftly. He almost escaped her hold – he was really strong for a kid – but she held on. She recited another verse impressively fast. "One, two, three, four – I win the thumb war!"

They both released each other's hands. Right after her internal victory, Lois wondered too late if she was supposed to have let him win. _Oops_, she thought, repeating his earlier exclamation.

His frown dangerously bordered on a pout. Then he looked up at her. "You're a real smart grown-up, Miss Lo," he said, surprising her.

"Thanks, kid," she replied, ruffling his hair. She offered her hand again. "Two out of three?"

He was quiet and she mused on whether or not her win upset him. He shook his head a second later in response to her question before asking another one of his own. "How'd you get lost?" he asked, interested. "Was it dark outside?"

Games were now the farthest thing on his mind. She saw where his line of thinking was coming from. "Grown-ups can be smart, but they can be dumb, too," she said. It would be okay to tell him, right? She didn't think he would tell, and when he grew up, she'd be an odd sort of memory for him to look back on.

"I put on a ring."

–

Clark tensed. _A ring?_

Things snapped into place, aligned.

His distress at not having felt her touch, at not even getting a tingle or an itch, had discouraged him. Perhaps he had gone too far, perhaps he was finally splintering at the seams. But this new information refuted all that.

Hope flickered to life in his chest.

–

"A magic ring?" His eyes were bright with curiosity.

Sure, why not? She didn't know if that was far from the truth, anyway. She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," she replied.

"Can I see it, please?" he asked eagerly. The idea of magic seemed to fascinate him.

She was hesitant, but he had already perfected the puppy dog eyes. At so young an age, too! The younger they are, the cuter and more devastating. In most cases. She sighed and reached into the front left pocket of her jeans. She took it out and placed it in the middle of her upturned left palm.

The ring was golden with an L and what looked to be an asterisk inscribed on the surface.

–

_This is real._

This memory, this conversation, this bizarre experience, _**Lois**_ – it was all _real_. His uplifting thought was quickly doused by a bucket of reality.

_How could I have been so __**stupid**__?_

Grief for Jimmy, grief for Lois had blinded him to everything else. He had been so caught up in shedding his own humanity, cutting ties to everything that he was, that he had forgotten about the one thing the Legion had entrusted to him. He had pressed forward and never allowed himself to look back.

Reminiscing was something Clark Kent did. He wasn't Clark Kent. He wasn't the Red-Blue Blur. He wasn't even Kal-El.

He wasn't anybody.

The Legion was among the casualties of his eradication of Clark Kent. He had forgotten them. And he had forgotten their ring.

The ring that was currently resting in the middle of Lois's palm.

–

"Look, but don't touch, okay?" Lois warned, deflecting the little boy's hand before he could reach for it. "It's very…" _Dangerous. Risky. Really, really freaky._ "… sensitive."

He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward, so much so that his nose was practically touching the side of her hand. "It doesn't look like magic," he finally commented.

"And what does magic look like?"

He pulled back and made wild gestures in the air. "Sparks! And fireworks!" he exclaimed, energetic and passionate. "And colors like red and blue!"

"Big, shiny things," Lois replied wryly, trying to hide a chuckle. "Why am I not surprised?" She looked at the ring lying innocently in her grasp. "Believe me, it's magic."

"Are you very lost?"

_Years lost._ She nodded. "I put on the ring and it took me very far away," she said.

While it had stranded her in the past, she was thankful she hadn't ended up in some foreign country or other planet entirely. Instead, she had ended up at the phone booth, the very one she promised to meet the Red-Blue Blur in.

She was just more than fifteen years early.

It had been nighttime and the streets were unusually stranded. It had taken awhile for Lois to get her bearings, and even longer to figure out she was in the past. She wasn't proud of that, especially since she was an investigative reporter, but she laid part of the blame on the confusion of sudden teleportation. She had been lying on the ground after having knocked out Tess, and the next thing she knew, she was lying outside the phone booth.

All because she had been curious about a ring.

She could already see Clark's disapproving stare.

_Clark…_

Lois firmly shut down that line of thinking before it could get started. She didn't need to think about how much she missed him, how much she wished he were here. Even after their last encounter, which had been cold and distant, she still wanted to see him.

_Shutting down! Shutting down quickly!_

Lois mentally shooed away thoughts of Clark.

"Put it on again, Miss Lo."

Lois closed her palm as she noticed her young companion reaching for the ring again. "Ah-ah-ah! None of that." She dropped her hand in her lap. "I don't want to end up somewhere else."

"You should wish really, really hard and think of home," he suggested. "Then the magic will take you back, like the shoes."

"Shoes?"

"The red shoes! The ones that are glittery," he replied. "Mommy likes that story a lot. The bad witch is scary, though."

Lois opened her palm again to look at the ring.

_There's no place like home._

–

He knew where Lois was, but he couldn't even do anything.

Clark pressed his fingernails so hard against his palm that he drew blood.

–

"'Member to wish really hard," her young friend said.

She opened her mouth to reply, but an exclamation from outside interrupted her.

"Clark! Clark!"

Lois sat up straighter. "Clark?" She looked towards the entrance and saw a red haired woman hurry past the Talon glass doors. _A very familiar red haired woman,_ Lois thought, wide-eyed.

Yelling "Mrs. Kent" was on the tip of her tongue, but her companion beat her to it. He jumped off the couch to his feet. "Mommy!"

"Mommy?!" Lois repeated, standing up. Her gaze darted from the outside and back to the little boy in front of her. "But that –"

He looked up at her with a trusting smile and unguarded blue eyes.

Lois sank back onto the couch cushions, no longer having faith in her legs to keep her upright. "I think I just had an out-of-body experience," she muttered to herself.

"I gotta go now," mini Clark said, coming a few steps closer to her. "I have to tell Mommy and Daddy what I did. I'm gonna be brave."

Lois looked him over with new eyes, wondering how she missed it. Or, she was simply that deep in denial. "Good luck," she replied, smiling tremulously.

Suddenly, his arms were around her and it took Lois a few seconds before she returned his enthusiastic hug. She couldn't get over how small he was. "Thanks, Miss Lo! It was lots o' fun. I hope I see you again!"

"Me too," she said, affectionately brushing his hair from his forehead.

"If you can't wish really hard, I'm sure Mommy and Daddy can help you," he said.

"I'll look you up if I need it," Lois replied, not knowing how to tell him that had been her plan all along.

He surprised her by reaching up to touch her cheek.

"You're really brave and very pretty, Miss Lo." He beamed shyly.

His words and expression went straight to her heart, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. She tweaked his nose playfully. "You're the brave one, ki- Clark," she said. "Good luck with your parents."

"Thanks!" He gave her one more hug, and she returned it, squeezing him tightly. "Bye!" He waved.

"Bye." Lois waved, which seemed to be the cue for little Clark to turn around and dash out the doors.

–

_No, no, no, no, no! Don't look away from Lois, don't leave her!_

Despite his internal shouting, his younger self didn't get the memo. Clark could only watch as Lois waved goodbye and that was the last picture he had of her before his younger self turned away and ran out the doors.

The memory stopped there and faded the same moment the image of her sitting across from him did. He made one last ditch attempt to grab her, but his hand passed through her like mist and then she disappeared altogether. The hot chocolate, now cool, spilled across the table, the mug shattering to pieces.

He sat back in the booth, ignoring the mess and staring at where she had been. Was she still sitting there, in the past, in the spot across from him?

He had to do something. He had to get her back!

_Lois is alive, she's alive and I need her to come back home._

All his lofty plans, thrown to the wayside by the reappearance of what he really wanted. He had allowed himself to forget. To bury everything so deep inside himself that nothing could possibly raise it from the dead.

But Lois – she was the key to his resurrection.

He wanted so much to speed out of the Talon and do something, _anything_, when he realized he had no idea where to start. He had no way to contact the Legion. The Fortress was dark.

He was completely powerless.

–

Lois couldn't get the image of younger Clark out of her head, and that only prompted memories of her Clark, which in turn made her even more homesick than before.

_Around and around we go, where we stop, nobody knows!_

Lois leaned back against the couch and looked at the ring that was the cause of all her troubles. Why did she have to pick it up?

_Right. The shiny._

She didn't even have it in her to laugh at herself. The more she stared at the ring, the more she wondered if mini Clark was right. Should she simply wish for home? Or should she try to seek advice from the Kents? But what could they do?

Lois admitted to herself that seeing the Kents was more about comfort than anything else. She hoped they could advise her, but in the end, they were just normal people trying to live out their lives in the weird little town of Smallville. Smallville had its share of the strange and unexplained, but Lois thought time traveling would be hard to swallow.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered.

"I think we can help with that, Miss Lane."

–

"_You're the brave one, ki- Clark."_

"_I put on the ring and it took me very far away."_

"_Are you saying being nosy's a bad thing?"_

"_Uh, don't repeat that."_

"_If you want to be brave, then you can't run away from your problems."_

"_You certainly don't look like any criminal I've seen." _

"_Hey, you all right, kid?"_

The mess that was Clark's hot chocolate was now a pile of soggy napkins at the side of the table. Under the heap were the broken pieces of ceramic. Concentrating on cleaning up the spill had done little to calm his mind. He dropped his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

Echoes of his newly acquired memory rang over and over in his ears. Maybe he would come across something he missed, some insignificant detail or remark that would shed more light on how Lois acquired the ring in the first place.

He had to leave soon. There was no means of communication with the Legion, but there had to be a way to revive the Fortress and his father's entity. He would continue the work he had been attempting all along, but now with an altogether different reason and stronger purpose.

Clark refused to lose hope, not again.

_Not again._

–

The mysterious trio wore rings identical to the one in her palm. Instead of reassuring her, it put her on edge. "I still don't know if I can trust you guys," she said. "If this –" She gestured to her ring. "– was meant for the Blur as you say, how do I know you weren't trying to trap him? Strand him like it did me?"

The one who over-enthusiastically introduced himself as Garth looked aghast. "We would never do that!" he protested, shaking his red hair.

The one called Rokk placed a restraining hand on Garth's shoulder and stepped in front of him. "If that were the case, we wouldn't have come for you," he said.

_We only want to see you safe back in your proper place in time._

Lois jumped a bit and stood up, still not used to Imra's second method of communication. She saw their confused looks and Lois shot an apologetic one in Imra's direction. "Sorry – it sort of weirds me out to have someone talking in my head. Someone not me," she explained.

Imra nodded. "I'm sorry. I knew that, but it's like a second nature to me most of the time. I'll refrain."

Rokk took charge of the conversation again. "Here is your way back home." He produced another ring from somewhere on his person and held it out to her.

Lois eyed it suspiciously. She looked at them and back at the ring. They seemed trustworthy and really, what other choice did she have? After several seconds, she plucked it from Rokk's hands and dropped her original one in his palm. She studied it carefully and made sure not to unintentionally slip it over a finger.

"How will this whole thing work exactly?" she asked. Better to get her information now than freak out again later.

"The timeline is very sensitive right now, so you may not return to the exact moment you disappeared," Rokk explained, pocketing the ring she gave him in his purple jacket. "But you will be sent back around that time. It's programmed to get you there, give or take a few weeks."

"A few weeks?"

Imra nodded. "With circumstances as they are now, that is the best we can do."

"But you'll still get home, no problem," Garth added speedily, wanting to reassure her. "Just think of home when you put on the ring."

"_You should wish really, really hard and think of home."_

Little Clark wasn't far off base after all. "Simple as that, huh?" she asked.

They nodded as one.

"Thank you for coming for me," she said, remembering to thank them. She smiled.

Garth grinned back. "Of course!"

Rokk simply nodded, but smiled as well.

"Good luck with everything, Lois," Imra said.

"Thanks." Lois took a deep breath and held the ring between her right index finger and thumb. "Here goes nothing."

"… _think of home."_

Several places and people flitted through her head, but only one stayed constant and at the forefront. _It figures._ She closed her eyes, slipped on the ring and wished really, really hard.

_Clark._

–

Someone joined him clumsily in the booth, falling down with an 'oof!' in the vinyl seat across from him. He was not in the mood. He lifted his head out of his hands, fully prepared to tell them off, but froze when hazel eyes blinked blearily at him.

He looked around the Talon, but no one was in viewing sight of the booth. He turned back to stare openly at the woman in front of him. She tried to get her bearings and lifted both hands to her temples as if to ward off a headache. He spotted the Legion ring on her left index finger.

She looked a little worse for wear, her long brown hair tangled and cream jacket smudged with dust and dirt. There were circles under her eyes, not so much to be noticeable, but enough for him to see she had next to no sleep.

She was thoroughly exhausted, but her image was whole and clear with none of the earlier haziness.

His hand rose unbidden, but before he could touch her, the mist cleared from her gaze, awareness piercing her as she took him in.

"Clark?" she asked, unbelieving. She grabbed his suspended hand and he breathed in sharply. "Clark!" She dove across the table, barely missing the drenched pile of napkins, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was almost all the way out of her seat, the upper half of her body awkwardly on the table and the top of her head falling to rest against the middle of his chest.

Clark ever so slowly raised his arms, wrapping them around her back, his hands burying themselves in the soft texture of her hair. He pressed her even closer, even though her position had to be uncomfortable.

Her touch, the feel of her beneath his fingertips – it released the rigid knot of tension he didn't know he had, and for a moment, it was like the weight of the world was gone.

And blessedly, in its place, was Lois.

She tried to pull away, but he didn't let her go.

"Unless you want me to crawl into your lap, Smallville, you're gonna have to ease up," she said.

Clark reluctantly released her, which allowed her to sit back down on her side of the booth. He gazed at her unabashedly as she smoothed back her hair. She met his eyes and the right corner of her lips quirked up.

"You won't believe what happened to me," she finally said. "Though I guess me appearing in front of you is a big sign of the weird factor."

He cleared his throat, but his voice still managed to come out gruff. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "I think I might have an idea… Miss Lo."

Her eyes went wide and then she laughed, the sweet sound filling him up in all the empty places inside him. "You remember me, 'Tiny Tim'?" she teased. "Isn't it completely bizarre? And I didn't think you'd be so cute as a kid! It's really not fair."

He knew she expected him to rise to the bait, but all he could do was stare at her. It was frighteningly easy to slip back into Clark Kent with her. _This is real. She's here, in front of me, and… I can't go back to the way things used to be._

"What's wrong?" Lois asked, her cheer fading. "What happened?"

He reached across the table and grasped her hands. She resisted for only a few seconds, but then her palms opened up for him. He upturned her hand and traced her palm lines.

_Jimmy was murdered. You disappeared for weeks. I turned my back on my own humanity._

_I was absolutely lost without you._

He didn't meet her eyes. "A lot."

"Elaboration would be nice."

Clark slid out of the booth, but held onto her hands. He stopped at the middle of the table and pulled her out, giving a little tug as she got to her feet. He held their hands between their bodies as she looked up at him uncertainly.

"Later," he promised, brushing her long bangs away from her eyes.

Lois didn't have it in her to argue. She fell against him and clutched his shirt, her head ducking underneath his chin. She didn't let herself think of all the issues still between them, all the questions left unanswered. The comfort of Clark's presence seeped into her and she relaxed as he wrapped his strong arms around her. She whispered into the fabric of his cotton T-shirt.

"There's no place like home."

With Lois safely tucked away in his embrace, Clark couldn't agree more.


End file.
